


In the Dark of the Night

by CAMIR



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Episode: s03e26-s04e01 The Best of Both Worlds Parts 1-2, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Mildly Dubious Consent, Trauma, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 17:26:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16560089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CAMIR/pseuds/CAMIR
Summary: What will you do for friendship? After his abduction by the Borg Jean-Luc Picard is not the same anymore. To keep the extent of his injuries from himself and the crew Beverly Crusher goes to great lengths.





	In the Dark of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this is so not inspired [by this song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ocm8QdNR_d8)  
> Translation of the original German [In der Tiefe der Nacht](https://www.fanfiktion.de/s/52cdbf9d00000ae2e861ce2/1/In-der-Tiefe-der-Nacht) done for a contest "An ordinary day" on [Treknation](https://www.treknation.net). This day is not ordinary and I didn't win the contest. But: I like the story. 
> 
> _Disclaimer:_ Paramount, Paramount, Paramount - they have the rights! I just play with the dolls.  
>  _Author's Note:_ Contest contribution for "A typical day" on Treknation. Presumably, this is misses the contest rules by miles, but I tried.  
>  _Dedicated to_ : My good friends, all the P/C fans of this earth who are as persistent as I am, and of course you, dear reader.

The nightmares were the worst. They came abruptly, but always with the same intensity. Then she knew that he needed her, that his arms were looking for her, and she gave him what he wanted . She found it difficult to accept the inevitable, but guilt overcame her and she gave herself to him. To him and his nightmares.  
  
Beverly Crusher let a pen dance on her desk and stared into nothingness. Without giving it a thought , she balanced the pen between her fingers, twisted and whirled it, then let it rest for a while before picking it up to start its little dance again. It was a quiet day, routine, and as she followed the spinning movements of the writing tool, she couldn't help but wonder if she would not prefer the tumult of an emergency. As soon as she was not distracted, she had time to think. She grimaced in a defiant smile. It was a miracle that no one on the ship had yet noticed what was going on nearly every night. Jean-Luc was like that pen in front of her: if she did not nudge him again and again, he would remain still. But that was their dark little secret.  
  
It had started when he had lain on the operating table in front of her. His body had been more machine than human. Only his will to survive had made him resist the assimilation with every fiber of his being. Nobody on the medical would have thought that he could come out of this ordeal unscathed, had they not seen it with their own eyes. Then, it had been time to restore his humanity, piece by piece, and while she had removed the implants, one by one, she had known that it would not be enough. What was the use of a living shell when the mind had died in it?  
It would be Deanna's job to make Jean-Luc fit for work again, but it would be hers to bring him back to life. She realized that as soon as he had opened his eyes for the first time as a human being and had looked at her. Without a word, she had taken his hand and had returned his gaze.  
_Everything will be alright_ , she had hoped to convey, even if that were not true. _I'm with you_. That had been the truth. She just had felt so guilty when she had looked him in the eye. Guilty that she had been unable to prevent his abduction, guilty that she hadn‘t been able to rescue him, guilty that she had made him suffer for so long before he could be freed of all that technological garbage that had perverted him and everything he stood for. And, above all, guilty that so much had remained unsaid between them.  
If she told Deanna about it, she would only hear that she was not guilty of anything. She knew that herself and yet the feeling that she had let him down persisted. A tear had run down his cheek as she had squeezed his hand.  
After that, neither were the same again, even though they had never really talked about it. What happened in the dark of the night had no place in the brightness.

 

Beverly put the pen back in its usual place and stood up. Her shift was over. ,She was no longer needed and it was not foreseeable that this would be the case in the near future. The current job of transporting goods was just routine, giving the crew the opportunity to recover from the stress of their last mission. She hung her blue coat on the designated coat hook in her office and said goodbye to her staff. They returned the greeting and then continued on their tasks as before. If any of them had noticed a change in her behavior, they kept it to themselves. Otherwise she would have already heard about it.  
As she sauntered along the _Enterprise_ corridors, her mind was in turmoil. It was such a luxury to have free time at her disposal after the hardships of the past few months that she didn't know what to do with it. She heard approaching footsteps behind her and slowed down so that the person could catch up with her. It was Deanna.  
"End of shift?" Deanna asked with an amused undertone in her voice.  
"An unfamiliar feeling after the last few weeks," confirmed Beverly. "And you?"  
"At the moment, not too many people need my help." Deanna stopped talking for a moment. "But the ones I'm currently treating need me all the more."  
"I understand," Beverly said with all her heart.  
"To be honest, such a case is unique in my career, never seen before in the entire history of Starfleet. I feel a bit overwhelmed by it. "  
Relieved, the doctor noted that Deanna had never intended to talk about her. The Counselor did not bother to read the emotions of her colleagues, but sometimes it just happened.  
"For me, the case did not end with the removal of the implants, you can believe me."  
"I know and I'm sorry. It must be awful for you."  
"When he's awake and in control, it's not that bad, but I'm not telling you anything new. At night, however, he is still plagued by nightmares and worse. " _And worse!_ "That's why I monitor his sleep cycles in order to give him a sedative if necessary. I don't want to give him something beforehand, because I want to see if and when an improvement occurs. "  
It was unbelievable how close to reality a lie could be. At least Deanna didn't seem to notice anything astray.  
"That's probably the best thing you can do. I am also confident that together we can make his wounds scar over at the very least."  
Beverly stopped and looked her friend in the eye, then hugged her. "Thank you, Deanna. For everything."  
The Betazoid gladly accepted the hug. "That's what friends are for."  
They broke the hug and smiled at each other. Then Deanna spoke again. "Any plans for tonight?"  
"No, not yet."  
"What do you think about letting off some steam on the holodeck?"  
"I think I need that. Around 1800?"  
"Sounds good. See you then!"  
They parted at the next juncture, and Beverly continued alone.  
_That's what friends are for._  
It was so ironic.  
She wanted to scream: "I sleep with my best friend almost every night to drive away his demons!", but she remained silent. The man who used her body in the dark was not Jean-Luc. When he lost control of himself, he became what the Borg had made him. And no one else but her should ever see that, even if it meant she would be the one who had to take the brunt of his inhumanity.  
Maybe one day they would talk about it, but that day had not come yet. As long as he needed her, she would be there for him. She owed him that.  
  
It was the same every day. A soft beeping beside her bed warned her when it started again. Then she dutifully put on her uniform and went to his quarters as if it were the most normal thing in the world. She did not sneak and she did not hide. After all she came in her official capacity as CMO. At least that was what she tried to tell herself  as she sleepily walked through the _Enterprise_ corridors.  
It was not difficult to enter his quarters, even though she knew she was somehow abusing her position. When the doors closed behind her, she was alone in the darkness.  
She could already hear him, his moans and screams and gurgles when the _other_ took possession of him. The seizures varied in length and intensity, and she wanted to persuade herself that an improvement had already occurred, that she no longer had to come every night.  
She had been with him again that day.  
  
Immediately upon entering the darkness, she knew this time was particularly bad. Her eyes had to get used to the sparse light first, but her ears had already told her what she needed to know.  
He screamed and flailed, and again and again a metallic sound was heard, as if something was thrown against the wall. In this condition he was a danger to himself.  
She swallowed.  
Did he even remember what happened here night after night? So far, she had been careful not to leave any traces of her presence. She didn't want to make it any harder for him than it already was. He had never approached her about this, but they had not had much opportunity to talk in recent weeks.  
Another blow to the wall and a clanking sound took her out of her daydream. Without leaving herself time to think,  she slipped out of her clothes, dropping them where she stood. Then she slipped into bed with him.

When it was over and his breathing had calmed down, she carefully sat up. She wiped the sweat off her forehead. She would take care of everything else when she was back in her quarters. She did not dare ask the computer for the time, for fear of awakening Jean-Luc from his fragile sleep. His attack had been worse than usual this time, but he always fell into a deep sleep afterwards. What worried her, however, was that he had already hurt himself before her arrival. A dark spot on the wall behind the bed testified to that, as did the trail of blood on her body and sheets.  
That left her to face a dilemma. Could she in good conscience leave him alone with an injured arm? And yet wouldn‘t she wake him up if she treated him now? The bloodstain on the wall would raise suscpicion in any case.  
Finally, she made her decision. She gently touched his forehead, then slipped into her clothes and left.  
  
The picture of the bloody wall, though she had only seen it in the darkness, did not leave her all day. Luckily, most of the medical cases she had to treat that day were routine, so nobody noticed her distraction. She somehow managed to keep herself busy for most of the day,  when Jean-Luc entered sickbay. He looked pale, but otherwise normal. At first glance, there was nothing unusual about him except for the not-so-insignificant fact that she knew exactly why he was here. For a moment, she considered delegating the matter to one of her subordinates. But it was clear that this was out of the question.  
She put on her most professional smile and walked towards him.  
"Captain, what brings you here?"  
  
The formal greeting helped her build some of the distance she needed now to keep this conversation on a professional level  
He returned the smile, looking  uncertain.  
"It's strange," he said, frowning. "I woke up this morning with this injury. I must have had an accident in my sleep. Did you notice anything unusual, Beverly? "  
He was using her first name, so he was also seeking the ear of a good friend and not just the opinion of his treating doctor. Even if those two were dangerously similar in this case.  
"Let me first treat the wound before we look at your EEG."  
_What a clumsy attempt to gain time!_ But it also gave her the opportunity to banish the bloody arm from her thoughts by finally taking care of it.  
He nodded curtly and followed her to one of the biobeds. It was almost ironic that, for once, he had come to sickbay voluntarily and let himself be treated. She knew as well as he did that the injury was an excuse. What really bothered him was what had happened during the night.  
She retrieved a tissue regenerator, while he sat down on the bed, rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm. The wound looked bad, worse than what she had made out in the dark. The blood was now dried and encrusted, but the skin was still raw and painful. He had not tried to repair the damage himself, but had come directly to her when his shift had ended. Until then, the uniform had probably done a good job hiding the wound.  
"I wanted to know what you think of the wound, so I didn‘t touch it," he said almost apologetically as she skillfully slid the regenerator across his arm. A short while later and no traces remained of his injury.  
As she put down her tool, Beverly took a deep breath. Now came the harder part. Today she had healed his wounds, but would it always end so well?  
She mustered her courage and grabbed a PADD to load Jean-Luc's EEG from the night before. As she handed it to him, she began to speak. "You had nightmares again, as shown by this curve." She pointed to the graph. It showed the time when she had entered his quarters. Afterwards, the curve went downhill steadily until it resembled that of a normal REM sleep.  
He looked at the picture for a while.  
"I can't remember. When I sleep, it's like falling into a black hole. The next morning I feel rested, but it‘s as if I am missing something. I can't recall any details. There‚s only a vague feeling of dread."  
Many answers came to Beverly's mind, but she settled for the most detached one. "That's why I still keep you under surveillance."  
It was her little secret that an alarm woke her when his readings crossed a certain threshold. So many nights she had been able to prevent what had happened that particular night. But that last time , she hadn‘t been fast enough.  
"We are trying to determine if you are improving."  
But then she could no longer play the professional doctor. "It takes time, Jean-Luc," she whispered. "We can't give up now."  
He nodded slowly, still looking at the PADD.  
"But how did I get this injury?"  
"You have a very restless sleep, as you can see. Your nightmares are very intense. That's normal, considering what happened to you. "  
Did she have a right to keep the truth from him? She still had the hope that his current state wouldn’t last.  
"Is there no drug against that? No sedative? "  
She sighed.  
_I am your sedative._  
"The problem with medication is that we are fighting the symptoms, not the cause. In addition, I can't take the risk to render you inconscious every night. It would falsify our measurements, and delay the healing process. There‘s also the danger of addiction to many of the drugs I’ve got at my disposal. "  
"I understand." He looked downcast and she understood his concerns. The injury made him wonder for the first time whether there was something he might not have control over. And he had to wonder if he posed a danger to his ship.  
Maybe it was time to give him some part of the truth?  
"Listen, Jean-Luc. There is something I _can_ do for you . Since we are currently keeping a record of your sleep patterns anyway, I could ensure that we get notified when something unusual happens. Then we could act and make sure that it doesn't happen again."  
He looked like he was thinking about it. Presumably, he was bothered by the thought that one of his crew could see him in a moment of weakness.  
She put her hand on his shoulder. "And if you feel better about it, I'll take care of it personally."  
He hesitantly put his hand on hers. It felt warm and tender. Quite different to the Jean-Luc she had met in the night.  
"That would be fine with me. Make it so."  
"Good. I will prepare everything and report to you as soon as possible. "  
He nodded curtly, got up from the biobed and left.   
Beverly watched as the doors closed behind him. Then she went to her office and started to think.  
  
That night she was woken up again by a beeping noise beside her bed.


End file.
